A Quick Silber Cassandra - John Kendrick Bangs

0:00When you're ready to slow down, especially before bed, listen to Soul Good Sounds. We create calming audio, ambient soundscapes, and peaceful listening experiences designed to help you relax, unwind, and fall asleep. Search Soul Good Sounds wherever you listen to podcasts. That's S-O-L-G-O-O-D sounds. Soul Good Sounds rest well. A Quick Silver Cassandra by John Kendrick Banks. It was altogether queer, and Jingleberry to this day does not entirely understand it. He had examined his heart as carefully as he knew how, and had arrived at the entirely reasonable conclusion that he was in love. He had every symptom of that malady. When Miss Marion Chapman was within range of his vision, there was room for no one else there. He suffered from that peculiar optical condition, which enabled him to see but one thing at a

1:04time when she was present, and she was that one thing, which was probably the reason why, in his mind's eye, she was the only woman in the world. For Marion was ever present before Jingleberry's mental optic. He had also examined, as thoroughly as he could in hypothesis, the heart of this only woman, and he had, or thought he had, which amounts to the same thing, reason to believe that she reciprocated his affection. She certainly seemed glad always when he was about, she called him by his first name, and sometimes quarreled with him as she quarreled with no one else. And if that wasn't a sign of love in a woman, then Jingleberry had studied the sex all his years, and they were thirty-two, for nothing. In short, Marion behaved so like a sister to him that Jingleberry, knowing how dreams and women go by contrarys, was absolutely sure that a sister was just through the verse,

2:07from that relationship, which in her heart of hearts, she was willing to assume towards him, and he was happy and consequence. In this, it was not at all strange that he should make up his mind to propose marriage to her, though, like many other men, he was somewhat chickenhearted in coming to the point. Four times had he called upon Marion for the sole purpose of asking her to become his wife, and four times had he led up to the point, and then talked about something else. What quality is it in a man that makes a coward of him, in the presence of one he considers his dearest friend, is not within the province of this narrative to determine, but Jingleberry had it in its most virulent form. He had often got so far along in his proposal as Marion, or will you, and there he had as often stopped contenting himself with such commonplace conclusions as, go to the matinee

3:11with me tomorrow, or ask your father for me if he thinks the stock market is likely to strengthen soon, and other amazing substitutes for the words he so ardently desired, yet feared to utter. But this afternoon, the one upon which the extraordinary events about to be narrated took place, Jingleberry had called, resolved not to be balked in his determination to learn his fate. He had come to propose, and propose he would, Ruat Kolum. His confidence in a successful termination to a suit had been reinforced that very morning by the receipt of a note from Miss Chapman, asking him to dine with her parents and herself that evening, and to accompany them after dinner to the opera. Surely that meant a great deal, and Jingleberry conceived that the time was ripe for a blushing yes to his long deferred question. So he was here in the Chapman parlor, waiting for the young lady to come down, and become

4:13the recipient of the interesting interrogatory, as it is called in some sections of Massachusetts. I'll ask her the first thing, said Jingleberry, buttoning up his prince Albert, as though to impart a possibly needed stiffening to his backbone. She will say yes, and then I shall enjoy the dinner and the opera so much the more. I wonder if I am pale. I feel sort of, um, there's a mirror that will tell. Jingleberry walked to the mirror, and oval, guilt framed a mirror, such as was very much the vogue 50 years ago, for which reason alone no doubt it was now admitted to the gold and white parlor of the House of Chapman. Blessed things these mirrors, said Jingleberry, gazing at the reflection of his face, so reassuring, I'm not at all pale. Quite the contrary, I'm red as a sunset.

5:13Good omen that, the sun is setting on my bachelor days, and my scarf is crooked. Ah, the ejaculation was one of pleasure, for pictured in the mirror Jingleberry saw the form of Marianne entering the room through the portiers. How do you do, Marianne, been admiring myself in the glass, he said, turning to greet her? I...are...here he stopped, as well he might, for he addressed no one. Miss Chapman was nowhere to be seen. Dear me, said Jingleberry, rubbing his eyes in astonishment, how extraordinary. I surely thought I saw her. Why, I did see her. That is, I saw her reflection in the glass, ha ha, she caught me gazing at myself there and has hidden. He walked to the door and drew the portier aside and looked into the hall. There was no one there. He searched every corner of the hall and the dining room at its end and then returned

6:18to the parlor, but it was still empty. And then occurred the most strangely unaccountable event in his life. As he looked about the parlor, he for the second time found himself before the mirror, but the reflection therein, though it was of himself, was of himself with his back turned to his real self, as he stood gazing amazingly into the glass. And besides this, although Jingleberry was alone in the real parlor, the reflection of the dainty room showed that there he was not so, forceded in her custom graceful attitude in the reflected armchair was nothing less than the counterfeit presentment of Marianne Chapman herself. It was a wonder, Jingleberry's eyes did not fall out of his head, he stared so. What a situation it was to be sure to stand there and see in the glass as seen, which as far as he could observe had no basis in reality and how interesting it was for Jingleberry

7:22to watch himself going through the form of chatting pleasantly there in the mirror's depths with the woman he loved. It almost made him jealous, though the reflected Jingleberry was so entirely independent of the real Jingleberry. The jealousy soon gave way to consternation, for, to the wondering suitor, the independent reflection was beginning to do that for which he himself had come. In other words, there was a proposal going on there in the glass, and Jingleberry enjoyed the novel sensation of seeing how he himself would look when passing through a similar ordeal. Altogether, however, it was not as pleasing as most novelties are, for their word distinct signs in the face of the mirrored Marianne that the mirrored Jingleberry's words were distasteful to her, and that the proposition he was making was not one she could entertain under any circumstances. She kept shaking her head, and the more she shook it, the more the glazed Jingleberry

8:24seemed to implore her to be his. Finally Jingleberry saw his quick silver counterpart fall upon his knees before Marianne of the glass, and hold out his arms and hands toward her in an attitude of prayerful despair, where upon the girl sprang to her feet, stamped her left foot furiously upon the floor, and pointed the unwelcome lover to the door. Jingleberry was fairly staggered. What could be the meaning of so extraordinary a freak of nature? Surely it must be prophetic. Fate was kind enough to warn him in advance, no doubt, otherwise it was a trick. And why should she stoop to play so paltry a trick as that upon him? Surely fate would not be so petty. No, it was a warning. The mirror had been so affected by some supernatural agency that had defined and reflected that which

9:24was to be instead of confining itself to what Jingleberry called simultaneously. It led instead of following or acting coincidentally with the reality, and it was the part of wisdom he thought for him to yield to its suggestion and retreat. And as he thought this, he heard a soft sweet voice behind him. I hope you haven't got tired of waiting, Tom, it said, and turning Jingleberry saw the unquestionably real Marianne standing in the doorway. No, he answered shortly. I have had a pleasant, very entertaining ten minutes, but I must hurry along, Marianne. He added, I only came to tell you that I have a frightful headache, and I can't very well manage to come to dinner or go to the opera with you tonight. Why, Tom, patted Marianne, I am awfully disappointed.

10:24I had counted on you, and now my whole evening will be spoiled. You think you can rest a little while, and then come? Well I want to, Marianne, say Jingleberry. But to tell the truth, I really am afraid I'm going to be ill. I've had such a strange experience this afternoon. Tell me what it was, suggested Marianne sympathetically. And Jingleberry did tell her what it was. He told her the whole story from beginning to end. But he had come for how he had happened to look in the mirror and what he saw there. And Marianne listened attentively to every word he said. She laughed once or twice, and when he had done, she reminded him that mirrors have a habit of reversing everything. And somehow or other, Jingleberry's headache went, and, and, well, everything went.

11:25The end of a Quicksilver Cassandra by John Kendrick Bangs.